Codsworth's Revenge
by SimplyWritingA03
Summary: Codsworth is tired of James picking up every piece of trash he comes across. He finally decides enough is enough.


Stained coffee cups with cracks running down the sides. Faded pre-war money which had long lost any value. Old willow vases with wilted flowers and partially rotted melons. Empty Nuka-Cola bottles with nary a drop of fluid residing inside, rusted steel shopping baskets, old newspapers with illegible current events from 200 years ago. Anything that wasn't nailed to the ground, James picked up. Even then, that might not stop him judging from the soda machine that now resided in Sanctuary Hills. Codsworth couldn't fathom why any of these things were need. Food, he could understand. Settlers did have to eat after all and there only so much that could be grown at once. Ammo and weapons were a necessity. There could never be enough medicine, not with rate with which his master's various companions got injured.. Dented tin cans? Rubbish.

"Are we pack rats now, Sir?"

He received a chuckle. "We're only pack rats if we don't use it. And this", James gestured to a set of chipped drinking glasses. "we can use." He dropped the glasses into a small duffle bag before resuming his enthusiastic looting of the Super-Duper Mart. How his master fit everything into that bag, he would never know.

"If there's a use for that, I'll eat my hat." muttered Codsworth quietly.

"Look at this, Salisbury steak and cherry Nuka-Cola! This is a gold mine!" The Sole Survivor picked his way over fallen shelves and rubble. James crouched down and searched the bloody remains of ghoul dispatched by the store's protectron. A bent fork and a wrench were his reward.

"Is all that really necessary, Sir?"

James stored his treasures before continuing on. "Yes, it is. I could use it for something."

"Like what? What could you possibly do with a wrench and dinged up fork?" Codsworth said through the robotic equivalent of gritted teeth.

"Well, um. There's a guy in Vault 81 who pays 15 caps a piece for tools. Like a wrench.", was James' indignant reply. He waved the wrench his companion. "Excellent resale value. It would be crime to just leave it behind."

Codsworth narrowed his optical sensors. "Yes, that would be the _real_ crime here." Not picking up everything piece of junk in the Commonwealth. James stepped over a pile of collapsed ceiling and slipped, hitting the floor with grunt.

"Over here. I need you to carry some of this."

This was ridiculous. He had been a faithful servant, carrying his master's finds. Never once dumping them the minute he could. Except for that one time with a squished radroach, but was just out of hygiene concerns. Regardless of the potential uses, it was just not worth it. Codsworth had to take a stand.

He floated over and bumped against a shopping cart that was slightly blocking the way. "I'm afraid I can't quite make it over there, Sir."

James sighed. This wasn't the first time that Codsworth had trouble navigating cramp areas. General Atomics hadn't accounted for such conditions in their programming. "Go around the shelf and come here."

"Of course."

A wooden crate that had previously held the partially decomposed melons which were now resting in that accursed duffle bag sat in the middle of the path.

"That's a bit out of my reach, I'm afraid."

James looked around. "Take that door, go around the supply room, then the shelf, and come to me." He smiled in satisfaction. "That shouldn't cause any problems for you."

Codsworth internally acknowledge that yes, indeed, nothing could possibly go wrong with that path. He had traversed simply following his leader around the store. Still, a robot had his limits. It was time to established them.

"Don't think I can do that. My most sincere apologies for the inconvenience, Sir."

James groaned in frustration. "Seriously? There's nothing in the way! Nothing!"

He was met with a shrug of robotic limbs. "Perhaps, I need to clean out the old sensor array?"

"This isn't about the resources I find, isn't? You think it's junk." Silence was Codsworth's answer. "You know what, I don't need you carry any of this. I can handle this just fine!" James struggled to his feet and swung the bag onto his back. He staggered forward for a couple steps. A loud crunching sound came from his legs followed by a scream of pain and a sudden impact on the floor. James frantically fumbled through his bag before finding and injecting med-x. There were no stimpacks. He had left them with his companion. "Codsworth, please, for the love of God come over here and help me!"

"Perhaps you could get rid of some of that rubbish first. That would certainly lighten the load." James' eyes narrowed while he protectively wrapped his arms around his duffle bag. "Ha ha, very funny. Now get over here."

"I'm sorry, James. I'm afraid I can't do that." Codsworth turned and began to float towards exit.

The Sole Survivor looked at his duffle bag then to the leaving Codsworth and back again before grumbling softly, "Useless. Damn. Robot." He called after the Codsworth who was opening the door to leave.

"Fine. I'll leave of this valuable loot behind. For raiders. And other Wasteland filth." He began to begrudgingly sort through his precious belongings.

"Oh, would you look at that! I found a way to get to you! How delightful." Codsworth turned and floated back to his pack rat of master.

"For the record, Codsworth, I really hate you."

"I assure you Sir, the feeling is entirely mutual."


End file.
